Currents Convulsive
by xoYanaaa
Summary: He stayed for the good times, and stayed during the bad. Rated T for alcohol and swearing.


**A/N** : Lyrics in parentheses are Currents Convulsive by Pierce the Veil.

(Congratulations, break a leg tonight)

You look at her from the audience. She's so beautiful you can't take your eyes off her. She moves so gracefully and powerfully she outshines everyone else like the sun. You know she won. You know it.

After the awards, and sure enough she won, you give her a hug and kiss.

"Sam, you were amazing!" You say.

She smiles shyly, showing her perfect white teeth. "Thanks, Fredward. Can we eat, now? I'm starving."

"Of course, Princess." You take her hand and walk out the door. You stay for the moments like this.

(You'd better listen to your doctor, doctor)

"Sam? Where were you?" You say after hearing the front door slam open. You hear her stumble across the hall and you sigh. You know exactly where she was. You get up and she sees you and smiles crookedly.

"Freedie!" she slurs, stumbling into his arms. Her breath reeked of alcohol. "I missed youuuuu…"

"You said you were going over to Carly's."

"I DID!" She suddenly yells angrily, shoving you away. "You calling me a liar?!"

"No, Sam."

"Yes you did!" she slams her fist into the wall, taking another drink from her bottle. She stumbles into the living room and falls on the couch. You follow her.

"Sam. You know what your doctor said. You can't keep drinking so—"

"MY DOCTOR CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" She throws her now empty bottle across the room, watching it shatter. "I CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT, FREEDIE!"

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Sam!"

She ignores you, getting up and searching for another bottle. She slams open the fridge. Then she screams.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY DRINK?!"

You don't answer right away. You take a deep breath slowly. "I threw it out."

"WHAT?!"

"Sam, you have to stop this. It's—"

"I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK!" She pulls stuff out the fridge and throws it on the floor. Then she stomps to their room and slams the door shut.

You sit down heavily on the couch and put your hands into your face.

(In a backyard of Seattle, we used to lie)

"Come _on_!" she pulls you harder.

You laugh. "Who's house are we going to this time?"

She just grins and runs faster. And you chase her. She finally stops in front of a fence and begins to climb it.

" _Sam!"_ You whisper. "This is private property!"

"Oh, hush, Benson. No one will see us; it's pitch black out here. Come on!"

You finally work up the nerve to climb this fence and follow her. She's lying on the grass, hands under her head. You lay down next to her.

"Full moon," you say softly.

She nods her head, her hand slipping into yours. You don't know how long you two lie there, but you don't care. You stay for the moments like this.

(Sober up)

You get the call at 2 in the morning. She went too far. Way too far. And you're angry. You don't know how many miles you walk, but you do. You get there and give them the money. And there she is.

"Mr. Benson, your car is in the repair shop," a guard says.

"Thanks," you say through clenched teeth.

You go out the door and she slowly follows. You take a few breaths.

"I'm sorry, Fr—"

"Sorry isn't going to fix the damn car, Sam!" you explode. "What the hell were you thinking? You could have KILLED someone! YOU could have got killed. Why the hell were you even driving this late?"

She doesn't answer for a few moments. But she says, "I ran out."

You scoff. "You know what I'm running out of, Sam? Patience. I can't keep doing this! You get drunk almost every damn day, and now I have to bail you out of jail and we have no car. What possessed you to drive when you can't even count your hands?"

She sniffs. "Freddie, my head hurts."

"No shit, Sam!"

"I can't…I can't stop."

You sigh.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm not going to leave, Sam."

"Promise?"

"…Let's just go home."

"Promise, Freddie."

But you're already walking.

(Oh, my sweet little girl)

You open the door, not expecting the smell of food to hit your nostrils.

"Sam?" You call out, taking off your shoes.

"In the kitchen!" she yells.

You walk in and are in shock, because you don't expect to see all your favorite foods on 10 different plates. She wipes the sweat off her brow and smiles.

"What's…what's this for?" You ask slowly.

She shrugs. "Just cause."

"Just cause?"

"Yes."

You smile and give her a kiss. You two eat together and then fall asleep on the couch. You stay for the moments like this.

(Don't let me walk)

It's happening again—the yelling, throwing, hitting, breaking. And it's worse. And you can't take it anymore. She needs help.

"I'm done." You say, quietly but loud enough for her to hear.

She immedietly stops throwing things. "What?" she whishpers.

You don't answer. You just walk to your room and start packing.

"Freddie!" She slurs. "Stop!"

"No, Sam. I'm done."

"No! Please don't leave me!" She grabs the suitcase and dumps all the clothes out of it. You silently put all the clothes back.

She starts to cry.

(Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie)

"Stop! Please! I'll stop! I'll never drink again. I need you. Please. Please. I'll stop. I will. Don't leave." She's sobbing, now. You try not to give in, but you do. You stop packing.

"Promise?"

"Thank you!" she hugs you and continues to sob.

"Promise, Sam?" Your voice cracks.

"Never leave."

So that's what it feels like.

(I'm in love...)

She pushes you out of your comfort zone. She takes you on adventures. She goes to your Galaxy Wars conventions. She cooks you feasts. She makes you laugh. She makes you happy. She makes you live a little. You love her, oh, you love her. You stay for the moments like that.

(But not for long)

She drinks. She drinks until she passes out on the floor, making you clean up the mess. She punches the walls, breaks all the glass she sees, throws everything in her path, and yells. Once, she hit you—square in the face. You can't take it, oh, you can't.

(And, so, you walk)

You can't find her anywhere. She didn't come home and you're going crazy. After a couple of hours of searching you remember she said was her favorite place. You drive to your old home and quietly go in, trying not to wake your mother. You go to your old room and open the window. Sure enough, she's there—the fire escape. But this time, she's on the edge.

"Sam!" You shout, running and grabbing her. "What the hell are you doing? This isn't funny!"

"I don't deserve you." She's crying, you realize, but not drunk.

"What—"

"I don't deserve you and you know it. I'm a drunk. I'm just like my mother."

"No—"

"And you stay even after what I put you threw. You stay. I don't deserve you. You deserve to be happy."

"I—"

"You said you'd do anything for me."

"That was 6 years ago, you still remember that?"

"Of course, Freddie." She takes a shaky breath. "But I need you to do one last thing for me."

You don't answer. Deep down, you know.

"Let me go."

"No, Sam!" You feel the tears in your eyes but you don't care. "I need you. You complete me. Come down, Sam. We can get you help."

She didn't answer. You cry harder.

(For you, I'd count the salt under the sea)

 **A/N:** I'm sad, now.

Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you review this. And I hope you get the ending. Constructive criticism please!


End file.
